Soldiers of Fortune (23 page)

              “Ok, so is this an internal or external push?” Jason asked rhetorically.

              “Indeed,” Crisstof agreed. “We could be looking at a power grab within the government.”

              “Wait,” Colleren said, holding up her hand. “They’re a republic; any power grab would have to be geared towards rigging an election, one way or another. This is an off cycle, Colleston isn’t up for reelection for another three years. If someone tried to mess with that they’d have a full blown, planet-wide insurrection on their hands. I can’t imagine that would benefit anyone.”

              “All I’m taking away from this discussion is that we desperately need more intel,” Jason said, staring at the ceiling and worrying at his scalp. “Are we still on the job?” Crisstof and Captain Colleren looked at each other sheepishly before answering.

              “Yes, Captain Burke,” Crisstof said. “For now, you’re still our inside team. But things have taken a dangerous new turn, we need you to turn up the heat and expedite the results. Any further civilian casualties may push Colleston into a rash action and until we know what we’re dealing with that’s the last thing we need.” The three stood and made their way back to the airlock, all anxious to get back to what they were doing before the detour. Crisstof nodded to Lucky before entering the gangway and crossing over to the
Diligent
. Captain Colleren paused at the hatch and turned to Jason.

              “Captain, I do sincerely apologize for this… misunderstanding,” she said, almost displaying genuine emotion as she offered the apology. “I hope this won’t affect our working relationship.” Jason, never one to be
totally
swayed by a pretty face, wasn’t so fast to let it drop.

              “No problem, Captain,” he said in a deadpan voice. “I’d have regretted putting holes in your big, shiny ship. Tell Commander Bostco and Crewman Piss-pants that we offer our apologies as well.” Her eyes instantly hardened again and a not-quite sneer curled her lip.

              “I will tell them,” she said, turning and storming down the gangway. Jason closed the outer hatch, and then the inner pressure hatch as soon as she made it across.

              “His name was actually Piss-pants?” Lucky asked from behind him. Jason closed his eyes and just shook his head. He opened his mouth to answer, then decided against it, turned and walked out of the airlock chamber. “What?”

              “Do we really believe that they mistook a light freighter for the
Phoenix
?” Crusher asked as Jason walked back onto the main deck and turned to walk up to the bridge.

              “I’m not sure,” Jason admitted, continuing up the stairs with Crusher in tow. “It seems unlikely that a few blurry images were all they had to go on. No transponder codes, no markings, no real proof other than a vague shape that their computer still should have been able to resolve as a different model than a DL7.”

              “Is it possible they’re that incompetent that they didn’t even run a crosscheck?”

              “I’d like to hope not,” Jason said as he slid into his seat. “That wouldn’t bode well for a successful outcome. I’m going operate under the assumption that Colleren is naive and not incompetent, for now. She seems to run a tight ship, but tactical thinking and the like don’t seem to be her thing.” He shrugged to himself, “We’ll deal with that later, right now we have a drop-off to make and payment to collect. Hopefully this leads to something useful.”

              “We’re clear of the
Diligent
,” Kage spoke up. “You’re free to maneuver. New plot laid in for the drop-off.”

              “Thanks,” Jason said his hand came down on the control to engage the slip-drive. “Luckily this was nearly on our way, but we’re still going to need to make up some time.” He ignored Twingo’s grunt of disapproval as the ship meshed out of real-space and the slip-drive wound up to its maximum output.

*
              *              *              *              *

             
With an especially bright blast of leaked slip-energy, the
Phoenix
roared back into the Oorch System, the location of their drop-off. Jason turned onto a course for Oorch Prime, confident they were expected, and settled in for the forty-minute flight from the jump-in point to the planet. He was pleased he didn’t need to say anything to Crusher and Lucky, they both exited the bridge together to head for the armory to gear up.              

             
The landing was as uneventful as their in-system flight and they settled on a landing pad at the planet’s smaller spaceport that was well away from the cluster of buildings that housed operations and security for the facility. Both of these were things Omega Force liked to avoid; mandatory inspections and overzealous cops were never good for business. Kage accessed Oorch’s planet-wide data network and sent a one word message to the recipient account that had been provided on the chip Dowarty had given them. Jason then went down and got himself prepped for anything that may, and probably would, go wrong during the exchange of stolen goods for credits. Once he was dressed in his body armor, armed, and had retrieved the case from the ship’s safe, he walked out into the cargo bay to meet up with the other two.

             
It wasn’t long before Kage called down to alert them they had a ground car inbound and they had received a reply message telling them to expect company. Jason handed the case, still in its padded bag, to Lucky and told him to remain to the side and out of sight. He then opened the cargo bay up and motioned for Crusher to follow him out to the bottom of the ramp, ordering the
Phoenix
to deploy the rear-facing cannons as he did. A few minutes later a sleek, long ground car pulled up with a deep, subsonic hum.
Must be some sort of performance model.
The door popped up and slid back to reveal a familiar face, although not necessarily a welcome one.

              “Dowarty,” Jason said, with a nod. “You get around.”

              “Part of the job, I’m afraid, Captain,” Dowarty said. The prissy man climbed out of the car and looked around the grimy landing pad with distaste. “My employer was distressed when you didn’t collect your upfront bonus. We were somewhat surprised to hear from you, although you seem to be empty handed.”

              “All in good time,” Jason said calmly. He saw the two bodyguards still in the vehicle, and he was sure Crusher saw them as well, so he concentrated on Dowarty. “We don’t like upfront payments as a rule. It makes it impossible to walk away if the target has been misrepresented or has been alerted.”

              “Prudent, if nothing else.”

              “So before we start the show-and-tell, I’d say a renegotiation may be in order.” Jason had been watching Dowarty closely and didn’t miss the flicker of anger in his eyes at the mention of a renegotiation. It was only there for a split second, and it didn’t fit with what Jason thought he knew of his personality.

              “I see,” Dowarty said slowly. “What did you have in mind, and please remember who it is you’re working for.”

              “As far as I know I’m working for you, or a few guys with bags on their heads, so it’s not a lot to keep in mind. What I was thinking isn’t so outlandish, however. I’d simply like the proposed upfront bonus tacked onto the final payment,” Jason said placatingly.

              “That seems… only fair,” Dowarty said, a slight, relieved smile touching his lips. “I can authorize that myself. So may I see what my bosses paid for?”

              “Lucky!” Jason enjoyed the uncomfortable squirming of the armed guards in the vehicle at the appearance of a battlesynth coming down the ramp. Lucky walked up and handed Jason the bag and then moved back and away to cover both him and Crusher. After pulling the bag off of the intricately carved box, Jason carefully handed it over to Dowarty, whose hands were twitching greedily at the sight of it. 

              “Oh my, my, Captain. You guys actually pulled it off,” he said quietly. After opening the box and staring into it lustfully for a second, he motioned for one of the bodyguards to come and collect it. “That box is worth more than ten of you. Treat it accordingly.” The offhanded comment startled Jason a bit, he’d never seen the little man puff up and actually threaten anyone like that in their other interactions. “So… should I enquire as to the health of the item’s previous owner?”

              “You could ask him yourself, if you were so inclined,” Jason said. “He never knew we were there. In fact, it’s highly likely he doesn’t yet know the case is even missing. We left no trace.”

              “Quite impressive, Captain,” Dowarty said appreciatively. Then a small chuckle escaped his lips, which quickly turned into hysterical, almost maniacal laughter. “I wish I could see his face when he goes to show these to someone and they aren't there,” he said after he had composed himself. “You’ve made my employers very happy, and so let me return the favor. We’ll pay your asking price, plus twenty percent. The added bonus is for your continued discretion concerning this job.”

              “What job?” Jason asked innocently.

              “Exactly,” Dowarty answered with another smile. “Feel free to enjoy the meager entertainment Oorch has to offer, Captain. The community around this spaceport tends to attract a rough crowd, so you and your crew may feel right at home.” Without a word of farewell, Dowarty slid into his vehicle and sped away, disappearing behind another squat, ugly ship within seconds.

              “And now we’re back to no leads,” Crusher growled.

              “I’m not so sure,” Jason said as he stared at where the car had disappeared, his mind turning over the last few minutes carefully. “Let’s call a family meeting. We need to get our shit together and start getting some answers, but for now we’ll stay parked here. No point in hurrying off if we’ve got nowhere to go.” The three walked back up into the ship, raising the ramp after them and leaving the aft cannons deployed as a deterrent for any would-be vandals or thieves.

             
It was the third day since they had delivered the box to Dowarty, and so far no prospect of additional work seemed likely. But they did notice that the ships coming and going at the small spaceport they were at were a little different than your average fringe freighters and scows. There was a parade of sleek, if aging, warships that would land, fuel and refit, and leave again. They ranged from slightly larger than the
Phoenix
to much smaller in size and there was no discernible pattern to the make and model used. All that was certain is that when each ship landed, a crew comprised of what were obviously mercenaries would swagger out and walk with a purpose towards the small town. So, for a lack of anything better to do, all six members of Omega Force tended to gravitate towards one of the more lively taverns come each sundown and see what information they could glean from the crowd of drunken guns for hire.

*
              *              *              *              *

              “Damn you’re big,” the drunk slurred at Crusher, using the edge of the table to prop himself up. “Not that being big is the only thing that… matters… you know,” he finished between a series of hiccups and burps. Crusher stared at him as a snake would stare at a rodent.

              “I’m sure,” Crusher rumbled. “Now, if you’ll excuse us…”

              “Don’t turn your back on me while I’m giving you a compliment.” Jason watched the fatal mistake take place in slow motion, but was powerless to stop it. The drunkard grabbed Crusher’s shoulder and tried to spin him back around to face him. The warrior’s huge, clawed hand shot up and enclosed the much smaller hand and yanked the drunk around and up until he was hanging in the air, too shocked to speak.

              “While I’ve appreciated your praise and unwanted attention, I think it’s time for you to go,” Crusher ground out. Jason, being about seven drinks deep himself, marveled at the warrior’s self-control. What he failed to notice, however, was that everyone had stopped talking and was now staring straight at them. The offending drunk, now realizing his position, did the dumbest thing he possibly could; he scrunched up his face and spit right into Crusher’s eye. Jason held his breath and waited, wide-eyed. The response didn’t disappoint. Crusher tossed his prey in the air and snatched him by the throat before he could hit the ground. He drew him in so he was eye-to-eye and let a terrifying low snarl escape his lips. The drunk, seeming to finally comprehend just how much danger he was in, started to tremble.